A white apron was tied round his waist, and into the apron was thrust a short thick truncheon, which looked very much like a rolling-pin. And then, there would be the question of money. Losing his presence of mind, Jack quitted his hold, and dropped upon the frame. Then it dawned. Pragmar, the wholesale druggist, who lived three gardens away, and who had been mowing his lawn to get an appetite for dinner, standing in a fascinated attitude beside the forgotten lawn-mower and watching her intently. org/5/2/524/ Produced by Charles Keller and David Widger Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will be renamed.
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